


Dragon Ronpa

by Unicoranglais



Category: Dangan Ronpa, Flight Rising, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Bad Puns, DRAAAAAAGOOOOOOOONNNNNNSSSS, Dragons, Gen, MOAR DRAGONS, Not a Crossover, OC cast, Original Character Death(s), Original Character(s), SDR2 Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-13
Updated: 2016-04-25
Packaged: 2018-05-20 02:02:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5988298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unicoranglais/pseuds/Unicoranglais
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How do you make the admittedly despair-inducing concept of 'a bunch of kids killing each other' more family-friendly? More commercially viable? More entertaining? </p><p>You bring in dragons, and make everything bright and colourful, rainbows and sparkles.<br/>And then, when the kids are watching, you have their favourite little dragons slaughter each other. </p><p>(OC-centric fic)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Everything's Better With Dragons

**Author's Note:**

  * For [literarygirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/literarygirl/gifts).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the main character is really, really confused.

[ ](http://fav.me/d9rk18x)

He wakes up cold.

Erai doesn't think much of it at first. He's never been a very sound sleeper; prone to throwing off the covers, falling out of bed, or even getting up and wandering around the flat. It happens so often, he's even made up a dumb joke to tell his family – "I do nothing during the day, so everything happens at night!" – and it was definitely funny the first time.

So instead of panicking, he smiles, since this is going to be a great way to lead into that joke yet again. All he's got to do now is organize some kind of family meeting, which for Erai means showing up on Mum's doorstep with a big grin, and that joke locked and loaded. He reaches out to brace against the nice, warm floorboards–  and three things happen at once.

One, his hand finds soggy leaf litter.

Two, his other hand finds a nice, sharp rock.

Three, his gaze finds _giant, freaky, **glowing** pink eyes._

_ _

"Aaaaghhhhh!"

 _"Ack!"_ The thing skitters back, coils and wings and more coils twisting over and over each other. It looks uncomfortable and unplanned, and pretty soon the creature's tangled up in itself enough to start rolling, screaming all the way. Four awkward little lizard legs splay out somewhere in the mess, scrabbling until it manages to come a halt, and just lies there yelling: "You, you – you complete and utter fluffball! You dumb cluck! You, you – anyway! Um, I order you to cease and desist with this nonsense!"

Erai stares at the mess of dark purple scales, neon green wings, and assorted grey rocks, which stares back. It's maybe half his size, so as weird and frightening as the lizard–thing is, it _probably_ can't eat him. Unless it cuts him up into bite–sized chunks. Which it can't, because going off what Erai's seen so far, he can outrun it. "What nonsense?" he grumbles, attempting to sit up. His legs aren't quite bending the right way, but he puts it down to stiffness. "You're some kind weird nonsense creature yourself, you know…"

"So are you," the lizard retorts. It at least sounds male, though not particularly masculine. "And you sc–startled me. Which makes you _rude_ , therefore I win."

Erai sighs, rolling onto his front. With his arms better braced, he should be able to get up easier, even if there's some kind of weird weight on his back. "Look. I don't know what you're claiming to be, or what you just won, but I'm a human. And since there's billions of us, that really doesn't make us weird. If you're gonna react like that every time one of us wakes up, I hope you don't plan on hanging arou– _holy smoke!_ "

There's a snobbish sniffling from the snake pile, and a muttered "Slow fluffball", but Erai pays it zero attention. His attention's focused squarely on himself, and for good reason. He has fur, lots of it, brown and cream and bright green because natural selection is apparently not a thing wherever he's ended up. There's no arms or hands; just front _legs_ , and back _legs_ , and a worrying absence of thumbs. He has a _tail_ , and _wings_ , and when he tries to look sideways at them, one eye's treated to a lovely view of his giant snout.

"This can't be happening. This isn't happening. I–I don't look like this! I went to sleep not looking like this! And I mean, okay, I didn't shave, but _come on!_ "

"Good grief," the utterly nonsense lizard–disaster thing hisses. Finally untangling itself, it comes slinking towards Erai. At least it isn't tangling itself up – it moves each leg slowly, deliberately – but now it's so low to the ground that its belly is dragging in the leaf litter. "Pull yourself together! Yes, you look like _that._ Get over it. I'm sure your Talent's still functional."

Erai blinks, registering the capital 't' because of how the reptile spits it out. "I have a talent?"

"A Super–High–School–Level Talent," the thing growls, then its voice goes high–pitched and condescending. "Everyone else I've met here has one of those. It means that you're really, really good at something." He gestures to himself. "I, for instance, am the Super–High–School–Level Heir. As soon as I stop looking so ugly _,_ I will be next in line to comandeer one of the most powerful companies in the world. Now, what is your Talent?"

Erai blinks, not knowing how to answer this, but wanting to answer on the grounds of the snake–lizard–whatever being way too close to his face. "Oh... uh, okay? That's nice, um." Getting to his feet, he takes a nervous step back, and even manages not to trip himself up, though his tail's flicking about wildly and his long fur's fluffed. "W–well, I'm great at selling stuff. Door–to–door, you know? I even sold my dad's car yesterday, without him knowing – it'll be a great surprise when he wakes up with all the extra money. And, I guess I _ought_ to be in high school… So, you might as well say that I'm the Super High School Level Used Car Salesman! Erai Nakamura, by the way."

He grins goofily, expecting the other reptile to smile at his great joke, but all he receives is a blank stare. "Kobayashi Togami. And you're an awful liar. I have never heard of anyone being given the oh–so–honorable title of Used Car Salesman."

"God, I was just ki– wait, _Kobayashi?_ That doesn't sound right." Erai frowns, thinking about this for a long moment. It's not like he should really be interrogating a creature that doesn't exist, but he can't help but be curious."Isn't there some other guy who's meant to be the heir? Byakuya?"

Kobayashi sighs, as though he's had this whole conversation before. " _That_ deadbeat? No, of course not. How could a child win such a grueling competition?" He snorts, looking away for a long moment. "Now. Are you going to tell me how to get out of here, or are you going to be as useless as the others? Without my _Super–High–School–Level_ guidance, the conglomerate will be rammed into the ground."

Erai winces at the sheer levels of condescending in his voice, shuffling his oversized feet. "Don't they have backups for that kind of thing? Like, a… a SHSL Twogami?" That joke was even better than the first one, but Kobayashi doesn't so much as snicker at its utter brilliance.

"It's none of your business."

"Okay, okay. Anyway – I don't know how to get out. Or what we're doing here. Or who 'the others' are, or how we got here in the first place, or what I'm even supposed to be. I mean, I sold the car, I went to bed, and then I woke up _here_ , looking like this – wherever here is, and whatever I'm supposed to look like right now." He squints at the trees. He's not much of an expert on plants; to Erai, it seems to be generic enough and dark enough to be any forest anywhere.

"So you don't know anything? Tch… how useless."

"Oh, like you're just so much better. How did you even run any companies?"

It's just a stupid, frustrated little thing, and he honestly expects it to be met with scoffing and more hoity–toity condescending bullshittery. But Kobayashi flinches back, and definitely isn't at all interested in standing his ground. "J–just report back to me if you manage to make yourself useful. Good? Good. _Bye._ "

With that, he slides away at top speed, and being a mostly–dark–coloured weird–lizard–thing, is lost from sight in moments. Erai blinks in surprise, wondering briefly how the hell that guy is supposed to lead everything – before he shrugs it all off, and starts trudging in the opposite direction.

_So I've met the worst–supposedly–best leader ever, who I'm stuck with, and also I'm not human anymore. Oooookay. I… I'm just going to have to deal, somehow._

_But, hey. We can't get worse after this, right?_

_…Right?_

* * *

_Fiiiiiiiine_ , so things have gotten worse. Erai is now hopelessly lost in a forest – not that he wasn't utterly lost at the start of the day, but he's somehow graduated to a form of 'lost' even worse than that. At least he was paying attention to the world he was trampling earlier. Now, every tree he stumbles past looks the same: Dark, foreboding, and most importantly, chock–full of low–hanging pointy bits. As far as Erai's concerned, he could be going in endless circles and not have a clue.

If he was and knew about it, he'd be happy. If there's one thing Erai doesn't want to do, it's walk, even though he knows he should. One little excuse to lie down and give up, and he'd absolutely take it – you see, turning into the Chow Chow of the monster/dragon/whatever world overnight hasn't made Erai very good at _being_ one. He's stubbed his toes on inconveniently placed rocks at least once every two minutes, and there's a slow, persistent burning in his legs and back.

_How much longer can I go on–?_

"Hello?" Erai calls out, not expecting an answer. Maybe Kobayashi was lying when he mentioned the others, or maybe he's going in circles after all. Whatever the reason, he's heard nothing in reply to his calls for however long he's been trying – bar distant wing–beats, and the occasional weird feeling that something is watching him. " _Hey!_ Kobayashi, are you around?"

" _Yaaaaaaahhhh!_ "

Something brightly coloured, feathered, and way too big to be a parrot – hell, it's bigger than _him_ – crashes through the trees and flies straight at Erai's head. Instincts kick in, thank god; he ducks, low enough that he doesn't take an idiot to the face. The air roars around him as The Whatever screams past, then there's wingbeats behind him and a _crash._ Erai whirls, hackles raising, but instead of an attacking gryphon, all he sees is a brightly coloured tail disappearing up into the trees.

"H–hey now!" Erai rushes over to the hole in the canopy, then remembers he can't fly – or at least, trying to fly would be an incredibly bad idea, seeing as he can barely walk right now. He cranes his neck, watching the slow, looping flight of what he suspects is the Super–High–School–Level Horrifically–Coloured Creature. Between the sparkly blue belly, orange wings, pink cape, and lime green body, _all of which sparkle_ , it's hard to imagine anything less eye–searing and obnoxious against the sky.

"You! In the green– orange– ahhh, let's just call it the everything. You know who you are, buddy! Come back here!"

The mutant parrot grins down at him, and manages not to look utterly creepy while flashing a horrifying number of sharp teeth. "Oh, hey! You're that guy from two seconds ago, right? Sorry, but I can't play you now. I've absolutely got to master my Dragon Sky Cannon Drop!" Curling one claw into a fist, he loops once more, then punches the air, which looks about as stupid as it sounds. "Just looking at you makes me all fired up, though. A new breed… new tactics… new _techniques_ … We're definitely gonna be rivals. I can feel it!

Figuring that he's talking about some sort of mutant parrot WWE, Erai does his best to back out. He may not like having a snout, but he also doesn't think getting it punched in is going to help. "Um. I hate to break it to you, but I'm not really into fighting."

In a split second, the parrot thing's gone from goofing around  several metres above him, to standing and glaring just centimeters from his face. Since it's landed on Erai's already stubbed toes, he whimpers, but gets exactly zero sympathy. "You can't say that! Not when you're aware of the awesome battle spirit present in every game – not when you can see the souls of two entire teams clashing!"

With some difficulty, he rears back onto his hind legs, and grabs Erai by the neck. "As Ryuuki 'Legendary Last Resort' Kurohiko, goalie and team captain, I choose you to play soccer alongside me! You can do it!"

 **_Soccer?!?_ ** _Are you kidding me?_

"Uhhh, I– I can't do that! I'll make you guys lose!" Erai struggles to get his front paws out from under the other abomination's back talons, then finds out the hard way that he can't reach his neck with his front legs. "I can't see any of that 'battle spirit' or whatever. I just thought it was fighting, because of how you were talking about it. I didn't even think you were talking about soccer– _stop shaking me–_ "

"Not until you come to your senses, new friend! I won't let you slip into the darkness now! There's no such thing as _can't –_ I turned into an I–don't–know–what, so anything is possible!"

Ryuuki might actually have a good point there, and if he was being at all polite about it, Erai would have told him so. But the shaking gets harder, and no matter how hard the fluffball tries to set his jaw, he's stammering all over the show and biting his tongue. "O–okay, j–just p–p–put me d–down!"

"That's the spirit!" Ryuuki lets him go, and then claps him so hard on the back that he winds up on his face. "So! Welcome to the team! I'm a Super–High–School–Level Goalie – so you can count on me to save the day, one hundred percent!"

Erai spits out a mixture of leaf litter and dirt, which tastes a whole lot better than it should. "Is the rest of your team that, too? Super–High–School–Level, I mean."

"I don't know. Are you a Super–High–School–Level?"

Cocking one fluffy eyebrow, Erai decides to try and sidestep the truth without resorting to that _excellent_ Used–Car–Salesman comment. It's an amazing joke, but if Ryuuki missed the point and decided to punch him for kinda sorta stealing, Erai's not so sure he'd survive. "Hey, now – you're not asking that because you're the only other person on the 'team', right? I mean, I got my question in first…"

A pause.

A long, _long,_ pause. Ryuuki stares at the ground, shuffling his talons and swishing his tail.

"Well… uh…" He frowns, then tries again. "My old team's gone, but– hey! I'm just getting started." He rocks back on his hind legs to spread his wings wide; Erai takes one to the head and winds up on his face again. Before he can complain loudly about this, a claw grabs at his, and he's pulled back up. Ryuuki's grin is broad, infectious, and as he goes on with his speech, Erai catches himself smiling back.

" You stick with me, and we'll have a full team of super–powered, super–charged players in no time, armed with the ancient tactics of whatever we're supposed to be! Since we're together, we're gonna be able to train for anyth–"

It happens in a flash. The calm is shattered by a gigantic, white creature, four red eyes, teeth so big they barely fit in its mouth, much too thin to be healthy, claws like knives, and – oh yeah – _it's covered in blood._ With a horrible snarl, it lunges out of the undergrowth behind them, and either Erai's quick enough to get out of the way or he was never the intended target in the first place. He screams and lurches to the left, glancing at Ryuuki and promptly wishing he hadn't.

Because _it's_ sitting on top of him.

And those awful, awful jaws have opened wide.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- I've actually been working on this for well over a year
> 
> \- I know, right
> 
> \- Character pictures will not be shown again after the character's introduced! If you need a refresher on who looks like what, most of the Dragon Ronpa characters can be found on my Flight Rising account - Spooner, http://flightrising.com/main.php?p=lair&id=45393. Kobayashi, Vivianne, and Kazumi are Tocabella's characters, so they're over on her account, http://flightrising.com/main.php?p=lair&tab=userpage&id=34607.


	2. Everything's Worse With Dragons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the main character is really, really offended.

"What's this? A challenger?!?"

"H–hey! Don't hurt him!"

The Whatever ducks its head in reply to both of them, teeth inching closer to Ryuuki's long, thin, utterly frail neck. Its tongue flicks out of its mouth, and Erai lurches forwards. Sure, the four–eyed, blood covered mutant dragon thing is twice his size, but maybe if he's quick–

The thing's head snaps forwards, and before Erai can get anywhere near them, its mouth's all over Ryuuki. It uses it for something different than tearing out his throat, though – it doesn't have much in the way of lips, but there's a smooching noise. Ryuuki twitches, his expression nothing short of horror, but then the thing's sprung off him, grinning from oversized fin to fin. "Gotcha! Operation 'Glomp Someone as a Dragon' is a complete success!" With that, the _definitely–sounds–like–a–girl_ spreads her wings, cranes her head as high as she can, and play–bows, going perfectly still.

_Is she… holding some kind of victory pose–?_

Ryuuki leaps up, eyes narrowed, tail straight and stiff. "Soccer's a no–contact sport! If you wanna fight me, you've gotta keep it pure!"

"But glomping someone as a dragon's the dream! Sweet and pure and awesomesauce, Mister Hot Wings." She nuzzles at the nearest wind, but as dumb as Erai's unwanted team captain can be on occasion, he's not having any of it. 

" _Harassment's_ your dream? Wh–what about the championship?!?"

Careful not to tread on either of them, Erai slinks between the two. Between the pink bows, the fluffy coat, and the red markings looking less like blood and more like a bad war–paint job at close range, the newcomer doesn't seem as scary as he first figured. Still, she _does_ have really big teeth, that and Ryuuki looks genuinely angry about what just happened. "Um. Can we just forget the championship? I mean, at least she's not gonna eat your face."

 _"Or am I?"_ She tilts her head from side to side. "Hey, Hot Wings. For a desperate, lonely, _kickass_ overpowered roleplayer, you’re kind of a buffet."

Erai didn't quite think about his words _that_ way. He glares; she just grins, like only a creature with far too many teeth can. "Easy, Glareboy. I'm Snakejaw Mcawesomefangz! You _maaaaaaaay_ have heard of me." She says it like they should absolutely recognize the utterly fake name; when neither says anything, she shakes her head and goes on. "Well, Erai's a pretty boring clan–name. Ryuuki, too. We've gotta get you guys some better names."

Ryuuki perks up. "Oh, sure! A star name for a star player, right? A super cool title, chosen by my very own teammates!"

"I see it… A _perfect_ name!" Snakejaw passes one claw over all four eyes. "Adjective time! You are brave! Energetic! Powerful! Spirited! Caring Confident! And that means your new spirit name, chosen for you, iiiiiiiiisssss…" A dramatic pause; the parrot–thing leans forwards eagerly, completely taken in. Rightfully so; for someone who's known them about two minutes, Snakejaw seems remarkably accurate. Too accurate – there's something awfully strange about what she's been saying, but Erai can't quite fathom what it is.

" _…Fishstar!_ And you're totally a warrior of Magikclan!"

_Are you **kidding** me?!? That doesn't fit at all!_

She swings her long neck towards him. "Nowww, Erai… Hmmm, it’s coming…."

Somewhere in his peripheral vision, a certain idiot's stupid feathered crest falls about as quickly as his expression. However, Erai's not paying much attention. Something has clicked, and he's determined to get the accusation out before Snakejaw can confuse him all over again. "Hey! Just how long have you been following us? I mean, I haven't even introduced myself to _him_ yet." He looks over at Ryuuki, relieved to see that he's no longer glaring murder, even if his lower jaw seems to have dislocated. "Um – I have a surname, by the way. It's Nakamura."

"Oh, good! Now I know exactly what to put on your team shirt!"

Two eyes blink; Erai's not entirely sure whether or not to count the end result as winking. "As a member of Bestclan, my power is _ninja._ Since ninjas are the best and all."

"What? Come on, it's clearly pirates!"

Ryuuki, being Ryuuki, fails to take the opportunity, say, explain why pirates are leagues ahead of ninjas. Instead, he rubs his front talons together in anticipation, then begins doing what can only be described as 'dragon arm stretches'. "Fear not, Erai! I've always wanted to fight a ninja! As the Super–High–Level–Goalie, and captain of my very own team, I'm gonna take you and your whole team on! Make sure to watch out for my Dragon Sky Drop!"

"Wait, so you've already forgotten about her kicking your butt?" Erai frowns, looking from one potential combatant to the other (careful to duck when the feathered abomination starts swinging its forelegs about). "Isn't keeping track of scores the job of any sports person?"

"Of course not! But she was being stealthy, and came from behind." He laughs. "As soon as someone starts cheating in a battle, I've got zero hope! But I'm sure a _real_ ninja can give me a proper battle! No sneaking about, or surprising me!"

_That's… **exactly** what ninjas do…_

"Geeeeeez. What's with all the tough talk? You nerdlords can't fight for shit."

Out of the trees steps the dragon–iest dragon yet – or if you prefer, a blueish–purpleish velociraptor with red bat wings. It could have towered over them all if it was stooping, but on top of that, it carries itself _proudly_ , chest puffed out and seven–metre wingspan spread wide. The dappled forest light plays over a myriad rainbow–hues; almost pretty, if Erai's attention wasn’t fixated on the feathered skulls tied to its body.

It smiles. "Unless you're talking about a battle of the dweebs, I mean. Bet you couldn't make it through a PG–rated movie without screaming. What've you got planned, a chess match?"

_Oh greeeeat, a giant dragon that's also a giant bully._

Ryuuki, to his credit, manages to _bristle_ in the face of a bully easily twice his size. "Soccer’s my battle ground!"

“And the forums of Dragonclanquest.com is mine!” Snakejaw’s tongue flicks out of her mouth between her sentences, which would be pretty scary if not for what she was saying. “You just can’t beat Snakejaw McAwesomefangz in an OP–RP!”

 _“Snakejaw?”_ Its lip curls. “Hah! Are you fucking with me, nerd trash? I didn’t think anyone seriously named themselves that sorta shit online!” The raptor thing grins, and though it has less teeth, there’s somehow more cruelty in its smile. “I’m Haru Kitagawa. xXSlayinSumNerdAssXx online, because that’s just how I roll – making music like the Super–High–School–Level Composer I am all night, then coming home and _slaying nerd ass_ all night long _._ Soooo, who’ve I got on the hit list today? Losers talking special names? I'm sure I have a few special ones, let's see… ”

She spends a few seconds looking her new companions up and down (well, mostly _down_ ), before her crest flares up and her smile goes crocodile–like. "Got 'em! You first, four–eyes – you're Teenage Mutant Ninja Ugly. And you can be her sidekick, Shitty Fashion Sense."

Erai catches Ryuuki’s flinch and Snakejaw’s cringe. It’s not like he’s very fond of either, but he hasn’t had his turn being bullied by Haru, and it isn't _fair_ to just let her trash–talk these two. Gritting his teeth and fluffing himself up, he steps straight into her line of fire. “Hey. I’m Erai. That over there’s Ryuuki, and you’ve already insul– I mean, _met_ Snakejaw.”

He's not sure what kind of reaction to expect; stepping in always worked in the _movies_ , but Haru's literally twice his height. She doesn't look surprised in the least; just _sneers_ , and launches a verbal volley his way. “Awwww, did I hurt the teeny–tiny, iddle–wittle fluffbaby’s precious feels, 'cos I didn't give him a speshul name?" She grins. "Thing is, I'm not even gonna bother with one. Erai _literally means ’failure’!_ Did you try to name yourself like Snakejaw, you edgelord, or did your mummy and daddy just hate you?”

Somewhere around this point, he realizes it: Going anywhere near Haru was absolutely the worst idea he's had all day. Caught off–guard by an insult he hasn’t heard since he was eleven , he fumbles with his next insult – all the bold, cool, _biting_ challenges have fled in a heartbeat. He's left sifting through a grand  catalogue of nothing but things that are lame – yes, even by his standards – and he can’t say he likes that. “J–just, uh, go away and leave us alone! You don't scare us!”

Haru makes a big show of being stabbed, then shot, then slashes a too–sharp claw inches from her too–long throat. “D'awwwww, so sensitive! You little shits wouldn’t survive six seconds in the industry. If one even exists anymore… Mmn. I might have to go freelance.” She brightens. “But hey, maybe all the schools got blown up! So, as the last Super–High–School–Level – that means the last person worth anything – standing, I’m in fucking charge around here. You little shits are gonna _have_ to listen to me, and I'm gonna _have_ to shepherd your little fluffy butts around.”

Her voice goes sicky sweet then, almost as high as Snakejaw's. "So _no,_ Mister Literal Failure. I'm not about to _fucking_ go away or leave you alone. Isn't that nice of me?"

_Grrrreeeaaaaat…_

“Th–the Super High School Level Composer’s got a giant stick up her bum _?_ I thought she was into classical music! Isn't she supposed to be, like, _polite?”_ Snakejaw whispers from behind Erai, reminding him that he’s not the only one who hates Haru right now.

"Maybe it's a baton", he mumbles back, unable to resist an opportunity for a joke. Between Snakejaw's giggling and Ryuuki’s incoherent spluttering, it’s nearly impossible to keep a straight face, but he tries his hardest, raising his voice and glaring at Haru. “The thing is, we’re _all_ Super–High–School–Levels. So, um…"

Unfortunately, the raptor–thing's returns the look so hard, Erai actually trails off and looks away, muttering. Snakejaw goes to interrupt, because _of  course she knows,_ but thank god – Ryuuki gets there first. _“Awright_ , team! This is  three versus one, but let’s do our very best! If we conquer the darkness in her soul, maybe we can add her to our club! Friendship power, unite–!” He spreads his wings; though nowhere near as big as Haru’s, they’re still fairly intimidating in their own right, especially when he hops into the air and begins flapping. Erai can feel the backdraft tearing at his fur, and going off how the bully’s crest flattens and the trees around her lean back, he guesses she can feel the wind’s strength.

“There’s a _loser_ club now?” Haru snarls – then seems to change her mind about making a stand. Maybe it’s Snakefang’s improvised war dance that unnerves her, or perhaps she’s just bored. Whatever the reasons behind it, she turns her back. “Oh, well… Guess I won’t be telling you guys how to get out, huh? 'Til it's waaaaay too late, anyway. I heard that not just _everyone_ can leave, you know. I was gonna take pity on you nerd babies, but heeeeey, if you're gonna be all mean to me…”

She hums a vaguely recognizable tune – Ode to Something, maybe – and as she moves away, her tail flicks playfully. Erai _knows_ that whatever comes out of Haru's mouth is most likely going to be a terrible lie designed to scare them all into doing whatever she wants them to do, but it isn’t like he can stop Snakejaw taking the bait. “Get out? You mean, home?!? Back to _the interwebs?!?”_ The war dance is abandoned at frightening speed, and she rushes over to the retreating raptor. “Tell me! Tell meeeee!”

Haru doesn't so much as look at the four–eyed thing chasing after her. When she eventually stops walking and casts a sultry look over one wing, her attention's completely focused on Erai. "Ohhh, haven't you heard? I thought nerds were meant to be smart or something, but I guess you're just regular little shits after all." She pauses, then turns all the way around, taking her time before she bothers speaking again. It'd probably be much more tense if Snakejaw wasn't just about screaming _tell me, tell me, tell me_ in the background, but Haru does her best to keep the suspense going.

"I heard we have to kill each other and get away with it." For a moment, something vulnerable flickers in her crest and her eyes, in the way her position briefly hunches – but then it's gone, and she draws herself upright. "Which isn't gonna be a problem for me. I'm just saying – for a bunch of fuckin' useless weaklings, being on your own in a _dark, scary forest_ with _big, hungry dragons_ going about is… pretty dangerous, isn't it?" She smirks. "I'd say you should all run back to your mummies, but unless one of you's got the guts to _spill_ some guts, you're all screwed without me."

"You're lying!" Ryuuki yells, thumping back onto the ground in shock. "You're _definitely_ lying! I'd never kill my teammates– hey, come back–!"

If Haru had tried to argue or make them _believe_ that such a horrible thing was really going to happen, Erai would definitely have believed she was lying. It would make sense – if she was saying it to intimidate them, she'd want them to be scared, and she'd want to hang around to watch them shiver and pledge allegiance. Instead, she flinches; then there's a mumbled something, she's spread her wings, and she's _gone_.

_But she… she **was** just lying, right–? I mean, there's no way… _

_…then, why…_


	3. Everything's Happy With Dragons

After Haru has flown off, there's a terrible silence.

In part, this is because Ryuuki spent all of two seconds deciding whether or not to follow her, before tearing off in a flurry of feathers. Without him, there’s not a whole lot to say. Whatever Erai could have said about himself is stuff he suspects Snakejaw already knows, what with the earlier stalking and all. Since there’s a murder threat hanging over their heads, he’s wary of making small talk with a four–eyed dragon that vaguely looks like it’s covered in blood.

_I mean, just one wrong topic and… **you know…**_

So for the next few minutes, Snakejaw stares awkwardly at the ground, and Erai at the sky. Eventually, he decides that Ryuuki isn’t planning on returning, and begins to plod forwards again in silence. If Haru was trying to warn them about something, and that distant _bmph, bmph, bmph_ is what he thinks it might be, then he should probably keep himself moving. He’s got no clue on how to fly, but maybe if he can get some good ground distance between him and whatever giant, hungry creature might be coming, then–

“Do you think this sucks?”

Erai stops, turning back to face her. Snakejaw hasn’t moved to follow him; she’s sat down in a position that looks an awful lot like an obedient dog’s. Her tail lashes back and forth, and though the whole four–eyes–thing makes her expression hard to decipher, her features have twisted into what Erai guesses is probably meant to be distaste.  

_Bmph. Bmph._

“Wh–what do you mean?” he replies – a little too quickly, his voice a little too high. That distant noise doesn't sound quite so distant now. He wants to move away from it – and on top of that, Haru’s threat is still weighing too heavily on him for the whole carefree act to be kept up.

“I mean… I guess four legs and no thumbs does kind of suck, but I’ve gone from trying to talk my way out of explaining the whole sold–car thing to being a dragon with no worries. I wouldn’t say that sucks, right?” He's lying, and not all that well; Haru definitely has him rattled. He _wants_ to believe it's all going to be okay, but if she’s right about the situation, then Erai's time here will absolutely suck. Even as a human, Erai was never the smartest or the strongest, and he isn’t exactly feeling powerful right now.

She sighs, lying down. “I was gonna meet up with a clan, and have the best time ever, and get a superpowered evil side that could totally kick some butt… I mean, isn’t that the whole point? Like, this OC riiiight here looks _awesomely_ edgy! Totally ninja!” Leaves crunch under her weight, and even though the ground is starting to vibrate, Erai feels something tug at his chest. He can't let Snakejaw just lie there and mope or angst or whatever she's trying to do, with The Loud Thingy getting closer and closer. It isn't _right._

"H–hey now! You can still be an, uh, ninja dragon. Ryuuki's going to get us team shirts, remember? We could even get a 'Ninja Dragon' hash tag on them if…" _bmph_ "…you like…" **_bmph_** , and he trails off altogether, searching the woods. He doesn't see anything in the way of big and scary, but that doesn't mean a monster isn't there.

**_Bmph. Bmph._ **

Snakejaw's finally heard the noise – she leaps to her feet, glaring at him with all four eyes. Her skinny legs are shaking, but the death–stare keeps Erai from saying anything about that. “I'm just saying. Like, if that big mean godmodder dragon bitcharoo is actually correct, I might not get a chance to be Snakejaw. And she was right about some things. This _is_ a dark, scary forest, like she said. And there’s no clans or anything. Just big, hungry–”

** What clans? **

Snakejaw’s mouth falls wide open, and Erai feels his do something similar. The interruption had been so loud, it hadn’t even seemed to be dialogue. It had simply thrummed and buzzed around them, and the ground itself shook with the words, making Erai’s fur prickle and bristle in fright.

There’s a pause, then a distinct whistling–

_“Look out!”_

Suddenly, the world’s gone a whole lot darker. Erai startles, fur fluffing up in fright, but thankfully for him Snakejaw’s there, and she has a whole lot more in the way of useful reactions. Her head snaps, then down, and in a single flapping bound she’s plowed into Erai, knocking him head over heels.

**_WHAM!_ **

 “What was that for?!?” Erai gasps out. Annoyed and winded, he wriggles out from under her, rolling in an attempt to get up. Snakejaw doesn't seem to be too keen in stopping him, so manages a shaky four–legged stance – and then, right as he's trying to stand up on his hind legs out of habit, he sees _it._ All his hard–earned breath rushes out of him again, and he falls backwards with an undignified whimper. This is one hell of an embarrassing reaction, but – faced with _it_ , it's not like he ever had much of a choice.

 _It,_ by the way, is giant, green, four–toed foot.

** Funny, I thought I heard something. **

The foot shifts about a little, and Erai shivers. The claws alone are at least twenty centimeters long, leaving deep gouges where they dig into the soil. If it hadn’t been for Snakejaw, he would have been crushed flat. In fact, she’s very lucky she managed to get herself out of the way as well – even her head, with that ridiculously long neck that lets her tower over Erai with ease, only comes up to the owner–of–the–foot’s thigh. Either of them could have been stepped on, and he doubted the giant would have felt a thing.

“Hey, what he said!” Snakejaw calls up, craning her neck as far back as she can. “What _was_ that for?!?”

** Hm? Is someone down there? **

After perhaps twenty seconds, during which Erai gets up properly and tries to keep himself steady, there is a loud crunching and snapping. A short, shovel–shaped, bearded snout pushes through the canopy, then the rest of it follows. Huge fins fan out on either side of its head, and there are rocks stuck all over its moss–green scales, making it look like a sort of inverse hill.

It swings its head about, looking for them. Unlike Kobayashi, this creature’s orange eyes are small in comparison to the rest of its head, dwarfed by the four long horns (two deer–like, two bull–like) and sunken below its eyebrow ridges. Erai can still see them widen when it finally catches sight of them – but given how small they are and how long the dragon takes to see them, he guesses that it doesn’t have very good vision long before he notices the tiny spectacles perched low on its face.

 

 **Oh, _there_ you are. Why didn't you speak up? That was a close shave – hold on. **  It takes a deep breath, and frowns down at them. "Ugh… I'm not used to this. I only woke up this way an hour ago. Is this an okay volume for you?"

The way it's now talking is bordering on a creepy female whisper, but at least it isn't deafening anymore, so the two dragons nod. Bad idea – this gets them a loud 'whew' of relief, which is more like a gust than anything resembling a sigh. Erai actually has to dig his talons into the ground to avoid getting blown over, and out of the corner of his eye, he can see Snakejaw bracing. The giant nods in response, and tries to back away without knocking over any trees. It's only partially successful. Some fifteen metres away from her(?) head, there's a _crash_ – presumably something her tail took out – and she grins sheepishly.

 **Apologies–!** A pause, while she concentrates all over again. The smile vanishes as quickly as it came, which is probably good given how many teeth Kaori has. "And sorry. Again. This is where I laugh." The huge dragon giggles, a low rumbling that makes the ground tremble, and Erai does his best to laugh along with it, despite how awkward and forced they both wind up sounding.

"Well, then. I'm Kaori Morita." She extends the giant foot towards Erai,  who stares blankly – even if he wanted to shake it, it's not like he has thumbs, and even if he did, he really doubts he could get a grip on anything below the third knuckle. " _Oh._ I suppose I should laugh?"

"Not unless I tell a really good joke. Like– you look pretty brave. Unshakeable, you know? Maybe even humungously unshakeable."

He waits expectantly. But Kaori's brow only furrows, and there's another long silence. "…So, I should laugh _now?_ "

"Uh, it's good. I'm Era–"

"Oh, no, no, _noooo he isn't!_ " Snakejaw finally interrupts, leaping over his head to land in front of him and then dropping into a low bow. This… would have been a whole lot more impressive if her long tail hadn't wound whipping him in the face, but it's still a pretty good attempt all the same. " _Ayyyy_ there! Mighty clan leader Kaori Morita Leafheart Potato Montessori–sensei, wrought in the image of my absolute fave dragon clan leader ever, Stonehide Flamesmoker! Will you take I, Snakejaw McAwesomefangz, and my companion Fluffpaw Brighteyes into your clan? We are but two loners, looking for travel opportunities and super–general awesomeness factor! We'll totally serve you well and stuff. And not glomp anyone you don't want glomped. Sooooo, pleaaaaaaseeeee?"

"F–Fluffpaw Brighteyes?!?"

"Never question the inspiration, Fluffpaw! It might just have come from the super–cool twelve–pack anthro space dragon gods I definitely believe in. There's a whole pantheon, remind me to educate you when I'm done convincing Miss Potato Montessori–sensei."

"But… _Fluffpaw?_ That doesn't sound very godly."

_What's gotten into her? A minute ago she was moping, and now she's all gung–ho again?!?_

Kaori inches her head up until she can scowl down at Erai. She _probably_ doesn't mean to seem like she's considering him for lunch, but he gulps all the same; she's huge, she's angry–looking, and she barely blinks. "What's your friend talking about? Do you two know something about this world? Or did she just eat something she shouldn't have–?"

Before he can try to answer, there's a high–pitched yawn. “Um, sorry, I wasn't really listening, but – hello down there? Are you two lost, too? Or is that 'are you lost, four'? I mean, two and two… hmm… Oh, that's interesting…”

Erai startles at the new voice – much higher and softer, but seemingly coming from the same place as Kaori's lines. Eventually, its owner laughs and waves. "Ah, sorry for being so small! I'm right here." Silks shimmer in a rainbow with the gesture, and there, perched on top of the beast's left deer horn, is the tiniest dragon Erai's seen yet.

"Hi! Kaori and I decided to call me Mark – like the question mark, you know? I mean, I'm a girl, but Mark just seemed to _fit_. Ah, I hope I'm not hurting any feelings? That'd be really awful. I only like to hurt animals, and even then – that's not really hurting. Just cutting open already–dead ones, so I can turn them into works of art." She winks. "I'm kidding, don't worry! Um, removing the organs is the worst part of the process, but as a pro taxidermist – Super–High–School–Level, even – I have to remove– oh, sorry! Am I talking too much?"

_Cutting open already–dead animals?!? Okay, now I've heard it all!_

**Just a little** , the giant grumbles at top volume. Erai cringes, and Mark flinches so much, she almost falls off the fin she's clutching onto. "Oops."

"Aghhhh! I'll try to tone it down! I–if you can change, so can I!"

The only similarities between her and Kaori are that both have deer horns, both have fins that flare out at random, and both are wearing scarfs. Otherwise, the pair couldn’t have been more different. The bigger dragon looks strong and almost natural to the landscape, despite being quite obviously not suited to this stretch of the woods. Mark, meanwhile, is a frail thing, barely a metre tall, with a body that's all pale purples and pinks.

Where Kaori's movements are slow and deliberate, punctuated by the occasional blink or frown, her companion can't seem to stop moving. Her head moves in little, birdlike jerks, and she's even sitting upright on two legs, reminding Erai of one of those weird birds–with–hands–pictures. Each of her dainty yellow wings are huge in comparison to the rest of her, furthering the whole bird look. Hell, if the little dragon had wanted to, she could have rolled herself up in just one of them.

"Oh, my! Is this some kind of, um, dragon version of ogling?" Mark crouches on all fours, folding her wings over herself in an attempt to shield herself. Erai looks away, glad that his long fur likely covers the sudden surge of heat in his face. It isn't like any of them are wearing much in the way of clothes, and he didn't mean to study her quite _that_ much.

"We're definitely, totally, spectacularly lost!" Snakejaw replies, then rushes on into a tangent that's even more tactless than. "Also yes, it's totes ogling, and I'm not sowwy at all. Maaaaaan, you're such a cutie! Not as cute as a real dragon senpai or anything, but definitely harem–able! I'd just have to set you up… Yep, that's right! A noblesauce quest from I, Snakejaw McAwesomefangz! The greatest OP–RPer of all time!"

_…I guess she's done with being worried over the murder–game–stuff?_

"Anyway", Kaori rumbles. That single word captures the attention of every smaller dragon in a split–second; she shuffles her visible foot a little awkwardly, careful as to where she puts it back down. "From what I can tell, you are like us, right? Not in one of these… _'clans'_." She pauses, frowning in thought, and Mark pipes up.

"Well, I don't know how important a clan is or anything. But if it's really critical and stuff, maybe we should form our own? Uh, I mean. If that's all right with you guys! I think it'd be quite nice. Like a little club! We could have regular meet–ups, and make sure we all stay safe that way."

Erai tenses. " _Uhhhhh_ , I don't think that's the best idea–"

"You mean, with fourteen additional dragon gods and cool extra elements and _all the lore?_ That's waaaay more than all right! I'll be clan leader, since I know much more than you guys about this. I read all the supplementary handbooks!" Snakefang puffs her chest out, and Erai catches himself trying to imagine her managing a clan. He shudders from head to tail. "Now, what extra elements should we have? Liiiike, I just _knew_ I was really a Time dragon! Fluffpaw, you can be Metal. Shimmerwing, you're, um, hm – Neato element for you!"

"Shimmerwing? But I'm Mark. Um, as long as that doesn't offend anyone, of course. I mean, I thought it would be all right since it's not Mark as in the guy's name, Mark as in the _question,_ but Kaori was a little confu _–_ "

"Aaaaand I'm Erai Nakamura, but I think she really likes making up new names", Erai quickly slips in, shrugging off the latest death–stare from Snakejaw. "Why don't we, uh, hold off on this whole clan thing? We… might find more dragons before we can agree on the founding rules? I guess? And that'd be pretty awkward."

Kaori thinks about this, then nods slowly. If it wasn't for the clueless words that follow, she might even have appeared wise. "Ah… I don't really understand what you small peo– I mean, creatures are talking about now. But as I said to Mark earlier, you two could travel with me if you like. If you're sitting on my back, it'll be harder for me to tread on you."

"Ayyyyy! Dragon–riding with extra dragons?!? Clan times can, like, totally wait. I'm a hundred and seventy–eleven percent ready for this!" Snakejaw bounces in pure, unbridled excitement, then rushes to try and climb up one of Kaori's legs; a far cry from the heap of demoralized dragon she was not long ago.

Erai plods towards them, suddenly very hesitant about boarding a giant thing that just because it's showing no signs of hunger, doesn't mean it isn't hungry. "I dunno if you're going to be able to kneel down and let us on. I mean, maybe we should find a field or somethi– _huh._ "

The huge dragon's nose is touching the ground, forming a weird kind of ramp. Snakejaw scrambles on, digging claws into every ridge and crack, but Erai hesitates.

_Is this a good idea?_

Yesterday, that wouldn't even be a question. Climbing onto a giant, toothy anything would have been a spectacularly bad decision, but something about how confident Snakejaw is seems to encourage him. That, and the fact that Erai's a pretty toothy thing himself, and he does have wings to maybe somehow break his fall–

** Oi. Get on. **

_"Yessir!"_


	4. Everything's Terrifying With Dragons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we discover why flight-challenged dragons are forever a bad idea.

Erai might be spread eagled. He might be so tense that he's shaking. He might be twitching with every potential fright, regardless of whether or not the creaks and crunches are at all loud or dangerous. He might even be flat on his face, with his eyes shut tight, and his claws jammed in the cracks between Kaori's scales.

In fact, he's doing all of the above.

But he isn't scared.         

When he's like this, everything can be perfectly normal – because with a little imagination, it can all _sound_ normal. For instance: Kaori's rumblings are just like the purr of a really nice car, so long as she doesn't have anything to actually say. The crunching of foliage is just because the really nice car has gone off–road for some reason, not because Kaori is terrible at avoiding badly placed trees.

"Are we there yet?"

That sounds so human, he's almost reassured enough to open his eyes. He's in a car, all right. How could he be anywhere else? There's even some annoying little kid sitting just in front of him, and another, somewhat older one arguing with it somewhere to his left.

"That does it! Rule One of Super Cool Clan Talk is gonna be _'don't ask when we've achieved full hella cool destiny status'!_ That'd totally ruin the surprise! Even I, Snakejaw McAwesomefangz, can't godmod every day of the week!"

"It was just a joke, I think? But if that wasn't okay, I can apologize! I, um, reeeeeeally don't want to be problematic! Or triggering, or cisphobic, or thinsplaining or ableis–"

" _Heyyyoooo_ , Mighty Magnificent Second–in–Command, ' Emerald Cherub'? A–kay–a Kaori Morita Leafheart Potato Gembounded Montessori–sensei, a–kay–a 'Feelslayer'? _Are_ we there yet?"

"–rotypical or patriarchal or misogynistic or anti–NaruSasu or pro–NaruSasu or gaslighting or cultural appropriating or–

** How could I know where 'there' is? No–one decided _where_ to go. **

"–bashing or triggering or oppressing or whitewashing or doxxing or discriminating, and  – oh my gosh, if I’m any of those things _I’m so sorr–_ “

"What, don't you know?!? The perfect clan setup place is deep in your heart! Trust in, like, the spirit of Stonesteal Flamewar, and you'll know! For suresies! I, Snakejaw McAwesomefangz, am counting on you, as a totally great G–M–R–P–er!"

** What on earth, or under, it is a G–M–R–P–er?  **

The illusion that Erai's riding in a comfortable car with very uncomfortable passengers is gone. Cars don't talk, or if they do, it's not done at ear–splitting volume. Kaori's voice rips through his body, every last syllable feeling like a miniature tremor; she's only said three sentences, and his ears are already ringing. All Erai wants to do is curl into a little ball, hold his head in his paws, and rock himself to sleep.

Hell, the first two things seem doable. He’s sorely tempted. But Between Mark's ongoing list of possibly obscene obscurities, Snakejaw's lengthy explanation of ‘godmod roleplaying’, and Kaori's forgetting to lower her voice in her grumpiness, the sleeping part of affairs seems nigh-impossible.

"–‘ll never make that joke again! I swear! N–not to any gods that would cause offence, though." Mark takes a deep breath, then seems to change tact.

“Um… but… You said it was Stone _hide_ Flame _smoker_ earlier, d–didn't you? I mean, I reaaaaally don't want to be privileged or microaggressive or hyperaggressive or passive–aggressive or aggressive–aggressive or– "

** Hm… You might be right.  **

Here, Kaori decides to illustrate just how right Mark is by nodding, or as it registers in Erai's mind, 'threatening to send everyone else tumbling to certain doom'. Mark screams blue murder somewhere in the middle of the gesture ( _“Am I reclaiming?!? I don’t want to do that, I’m so sorry!”_ ), but that only does the opposite of what she intended. Kaori snaps her head level so fast, Erai nearly goes sliding into the abyss, and even Snakejaw loses her footing, if the scratching noises and cursing's any indication.

Yes, _certain doom._  

Yes, _the abyss._

That implied bad thing is definitely a _thing_. He saw it earlier – it's what gave him the brilliant idea to start lying face–down. Not that he's scared or anything, he’s just had a go and decided that he really, _really_ enjoys spread–eagling. It is entirely his choice, and he is very proud of it. Pressing his snout and claws into Kaori's hide is, without a doubt, the most comfortable thing he could be doing right now.

Yes. Definitely.

 _…_ Fine, so he's scared of falling. Big, hairy deal. Who wouldn't be horrified by the view? It consists of only horrible things – a long, long way to fall, a trail of fallen trees behind them, and let's not forget, two creatures with giant fangs and bigger wings, flanking him like gargoyles, making sure he'll never leave this hell he's in. If he closes his eyes, he can pretend that they're really nice people and also look like really nice people, even if Haru's words still whisper in the back of his mind.

_…Great, now I’m thinking about that! Go me._

It feels like an age, but Kaori finally steadies herself.  **Ah… Apologies? I forget, sometimes**.

A pause, then she continues with that far more bearable, yet _far_ creepier whisper. "Well, anyway… Are Stonehide and Stonesteal different dragons, Snakejaw?"

She's shuddered to a halt. Erai shudders with her, opening one eye because Kaori's head feels stationary enough to have been resting on the ground – _nope, nope, nope._ They are most definitely nowhere near the ground. The tree tops are metres below them; a creek resembles a dropped ribbon far more than it does water. The vertigo’s worse than what he imagined it would be. Just one look down, and Erai is left with a head that reels and a gut that churns. He can't look away. He's going to fall. He's going to die.

Erai shivers at that last one, clinging to the giant scales with all the strength he can muster, trying desperately not to scream. Usually, he can deal with heights, but – they're just so high up, and no–one's wearing any seatbelts, and his two companions are maybe fighting themselves or something. It's bad enough being sixteen feet in the air, perhaps even more; never mind the arguing, or the fact that Snakejaw looks _terrifying_ whenever she's excited. Huge fangs click against each other as she talks, spittle flying from time to time.

"H–hah! Nice try with the newbie question, but I'm no n00b!1! See, Stonehide Flamesmoker's a mythological figure in the mighty awesomesauce dragon kingdom of coolness, so she goes by, like, _all_ the names! I’ve heard rumors that she even multiaccounts!"

Erai grins, trying to look a lot happier about the whole situation than he feels. "Oh, like – Stonerock Flamehot? Is that a thing?"

Maybe a joke can defuse the… the whatever's actually going on here, he has no real idea. Here they are, presumably all humans stuffed in the wrong bodies, riding on a giant dragon's head, and apparently the reasonable thing to do here is chat about some fictional dragon’s name. Maybe his companions just don’t deal very well with stress, or maybe they just have zero common sense.

"Yeppers, exactly right! Stonerock Flamehot's actually one of her more famous forms. I heard she even trademarked it, but Snakejaw McAwesomefangz is completely above restraining orders, so it's all good. I ship her with Lady Shadowclaw Du Bloodytearz, my Pokémon OC, but that's only a crossover thing! And also, only a thing if I can find someone willing to roleplay as an Eevee on Dragonclanquest.com. Must be sixteen or under, must be female, _must_ know everything about my personal Pokeumans ‘verse! I’m gonna bump that search post when I get home, you better believe it."

** Yes, of course. I understand.  **

_What part of any of that did you understand?!?_

At least Mark seems confused enough for Erai to keep some faith in humanity – or dragonity, or whatever he’s supposed to have faith in at this point. He’s not entirely sure. "Well, if we're done talking about… uh… Rockpebble Chiligarnish, I'm sorry, I wasn't listening because I was being sorry – anyway. We’re not moving very fast, are we? And we keep, um… not to be rude, but we’re, uh, maaaaaybe violating plant rights? So, I was thinking, maybe we could sit down and figure out where–”

“ _Ooooor_ , she could fly! Be free!”

 **_ Who _ ** ** can fly? **

“You!”

** …I can? **

“Not if you talk like that, you can’t”, Erai growls, but no–one seems to hear.

“Yes, I think so! You have wings… Um, I don’t mean to be ableist, but it does seem like you might be able to move them? U–unless you can’t, in which case I’m sorry!”

 **No. I think – ah, sorry** – I think I can move them.” Kaori gingerly stretches first one wing, then the other. She flaps a couple of times, experimenting – and something in Erai’s gut begins training for the world record somersault attempt.

“Hey! Uh! I–I don’t think this is a very good idea”, he begins, but he’s drowned out by Snakejaw’s latest speech. The four–eyed beast is hopping up and down, tail lashing about in a big show of excitement. If Erai hadn’t been busy spread-eagling, he would have considered slapping some sense into her.

“Hell yeppers! I’ve always wanted to ride a dragon, or be a dragon – so being a dragon while riding another dragon’s the absolute best of both! Also, it’s definitely a time honored clan tradition for elders to fly hatchlings over the mighty misty mountains. Just wing your flappers, initiate friendoodle! You can do it!”

“ _Initiate friendoodle._ Yes. And you would like me to… er, what my what?”

"Ancient dragon language", comes the reply, sounding as sensible as if Snakejaw just said the sky was blue.

“I think she might mean that you should flap your wings. Both at the same time, if that’s okay? A–and maybe jump, too.”

The big dragon obliges, flapping and hopping about. Erai redoubles his efforts to hold onto her head, digging his claws in as hard as he dares. “Oi, I wasn’t kidding! Don’t do any of that, not with usssssrrrrr **rrrrrrr rrrrrrrrrrrrRRRRRRRRRRR**–

He must have hit a nerve. The rest of the sentence is lost under a bellow so loud, Erai is actually _part_ of it for a moment, his whole body resonating and shaking with the horrific noise. His eyes are squeezed shut, and there's even a horrible lurch in his stomach as the howl of agony reaches its peak.

 **–RRRRRRAAAAA _AAAAAAA_ AAAAAAAGHHHHHHhhhhhhhhhh**hhhhhh **…**?

Kaori trails off too early, thank goodness – Erai's ears are only left ringing, and he isn't shaking too badly. Somewhere to his left, Snakejaw claps him on the back. "Hey lookee, you did it. Yup, yup – here's the dream, right here! Kaori, Mark, just _look,_ ohmigosh, it's the best! I would definitely be linking 'We Are The Champions' right now, if I could!"

"…Oh. Huh." Kaori sounds vaguely bemused by how small the world just became. It looks almost like a model landscape, if you ignore the fact that the table edge is more of a horizon, and parts of the diorama are blocked out completely by low–altitude clouds. And here's another, definitely–not–important–at–all difference: The models are getting bigger. Not all that quickly, since Kaori still has both wings spread, but is enough to send Erai’s survival instincts screaming for cover.

“We’re, I don’t know, a million metres or something in the air, and that’s all you have to say about it? 'Oh, huh?' _Huh?!?_ “  And during the long pause that follows, he remembers that the giant dragon could swallow him whole if she wanted to.

_She’d just flip her head up, and open wide…._

Kaori just sighs, lifting her front legs in a pseudo–shrug. “Ahh… Sorry, I was surprised. I did go up awfully fast.” Here, there is a dry rustle behind Erai's head. He assumes this is a steady wing–beat for all of about three seconds. It goes a bit like this: One, two, thr–

–the ground is much closer than it used to be. He starts screaming. The air rushes past them fast enough to whistle, and gale–force winds tear at his fur, threatening to rip him off and hurl him into a world of slightly–more–certain death. One paw comes free, but with an effort, Erai just manages to drag it back, trapping some part of Mark or Snakejaw under it in the process. He then tries very hard not to think about the wriggling.

"I'm so sorry! I shouldn't have t–translated Snakejaw wh–when she said 'winger your flaps'! This is a–all my fault!" Mark sounds close by, possibly close enough to have been trapped by his weight. Erai can only hope that the tiny thing hasn’t been hurt before they can all get brutally dismembered, impaled, exploded, or whatever terrible thing is going to happen when Kaori hits the ground.

_That wouldn’t be particularly fair… Whoa, we’re still falling? I need to do something!_

Choking down his wailing, he tries for actual words – even if it’s just shrieking whatever pops into his head, it still counts. “Flap! Pull up! Check your altitude! Do a barrel roll!”

Somehow, Kaori manages another sigh, despite falling out of the air like a giant–dragon–shaped rock. **…Wasn't it 'wing your flappers'?**

"Who cares?!?" Erai screams. "W–we're all gonna die! We're going too fast, we're gonna crash and burn! In multiple bad ways!"

** But we went up quickly, and we were fine. **

“I thought you all went to Hope’s Peak, god dammit! Even _I_ know that hitting the ground is bad for you, and I–” He stops with a grunt, praying none of the idiots _noticed_ that little slip. The sad  truth is, he doesn’t remember ever going to– _who cares, we’re still falling out of the sky!_

 "Ohmygosh, it's just like in all the books. We're gonna do a loop–de–loop at the last possible minute, and soar into the sky! I’ll be just like a rollercoaster, but with ancient superpowered dragons!"

Opening one eye, Erai sees Snakejaw advancing towards Kaoi's nose. It doesn’t exactly look easy – long claws dig, and all four of her eyes are closed in a show of effort. Slowly but surely, the lithe dragon wriggles forwards, chattering all the way. "Here we go, here we go – okay. Just a few more seconds… yep… now! _Now!"_

She taps on Kaori's glasses, making the bigger dragon flinch. But there's no flapping, and going off the wide eyes and stiff tail, that may have actually been the whole plan. Maybe it’s just that she’s looking about, and can now see just how close the ground is. Either way, the creature’s voice goes a little desperate. "Okay, so maybe another second but – awww, come on! You can’t be slacking when it comes to loop–de–loops! Wings up, we're outta here! _"_

Erai is about ready to black out. It is taking all his strength to keep himself from losing to the vicious wind, and his muscles are starting to burn. Only fear keeps him holding on; fear of the big, tan blue under them that barely registers as ground anymore. If Erai lets go, he _will_ fall, and definitely die. He’ll take a slim chance at surviving via Kaori–remembering–to–fly–just–in–time over certain death.

And for long, terrible seconds, he’s stuck in this one horrible moment. And the big dragon keeps falling. And Mark tries to say something apologetic, but it’s muffled. And Snakejaw looks back over her shoulder and yells a warning and loses her footing and goes to shriek and–

The ride from hell comes to a halt.

Which might be okay, if no–one was hurt. Unlikely, since a certain annoying four–eyed thing has vanished, but _still_ – if they had all survived unharmed, they might be able to laugh it all off. Problem is, the whole stopping thing… well, it’s definitely not okay at all, since it doesn't involve the ground. Therefore to Erai, it’s Impossible and therefore Not Okay.

Yes, Kaori’s nose brushes overgrown cobblestones with each slow, sickening swing. Yes, it makes Erai's stomach resume training for the world record somersault attempt. But no, it does not count as ‘involving the ground’.

 “What’s going on?”

Tearing his gaze from the awful sight of the ground being much too close for comfort, Erai looks down at his left paw. A purple leg is sticking out from under it, feeling about at the scales for a suitable purchase before it tries to help Mark get out. “I c–can’t see…”

Erai glances at the ground, then presses down a little harder. “Ah, you don’t want to get out. I've got you, and we’re, um – sideways? Never was good with directions. I don't know if this is east or west.”

Snakejaw must have been sprawled low on Kaori’s nose, since now she comes into sight, dragging herself up the dragon’s forehead to cling onto one of the horns."Ayyyy, ayyyy, aghhhhh! Forgive me, mighty vessel of magnificent might, for in my excitement, I totally messed up! Mighty second–in–command, please accept this leader's most humble apologies for this totally catastrophic yet utterly avoidable _fuckup!_ I, like, super–shamed you for not being able to fly!"

How she can say all that whilst clinging to a vertical surface, Erai has no idea. At any rate, it's a wasted attempt of a speech. There's no acknowledgement from Kaori; the dragon's attention seems to be drawn elsewhere. Just as Snakejaw takes a deep breath, the giant lets loose with a not–very–mighty–but–still–very–loud–squeaks. Wings flap desperately, and she lunges hard to the right, hurling herself up towards something in Erai's peripheral vision.

Live prey? Maybe a bird? He watches intently, for too terrified to remember that watching probably isn't the best idea. They sail through the air fast enough to throw Snakejaw back down Kaori’s head, threatening to ruin Erai’s grip by crashing straight into him. He manages to stay on – even gets a paw onto Snakejaw's tail or back or _somewhere,_ does his best to pin her down.

"H–hey now! You've got passengers, remember?"

That is all he manages. Before he can yell for the big dragon to stop moving so much, Kaori twists in midair to face her foe. There's a horrible lurch, and though Snakejaw is for the most part in the way, Erai can still see huge claws reach behind her, gouging deep into something grey.

And they stop, at long last. Kaori just hangs off whatever she's attached herself to, panting. Snakejaw takes the opportunity to step away from Erai, picking her way up towards their mounts' snout without a word. Mark mutters about being oppressed (" _He's literally on top of me!_ "), but Erai's not in the mood for it. He just redoubles his grip as best he can, watching Snakejaw and trying to remember how normal breathing works.

"Oh _._ Huh." Erai feels Kaori shudder under him, and clears his throat.

"Please tell me that's not gonna be a catchphra–"

**_S N A P !_ **

Not a branch, as much as he'd like to believe it. Kaori is now holding a human arm, unless branches happen to look like human arms in whatever messed–up world supports dragons. Erai's throat is burning too much for him to make a sound, but his mind screams blue murder as they tear back down the arc, double–taking only when Kaori shrugs hard enough that his head is thrown back. His gaze locks onto the object she just tossed up and over her shoulder.

_Yep, definitely an arm._

Thankfully, also definitely not a _real_ one. He breathes a sigh, trying to settle down as best he can while his world view swings wildly. It was only a broken part of a statue – the enormous, grey thing she was just trying to cling onto. Nothing… worse, whatever ‘worse’ might have been. It would be for the best not to think about that–

**_ "Relax!" _ **

The word is loud and harsh enough that Erai actually lets go. At least he isn't the only one – as he falls, Kaori drops the rest of the way to the ground, serving as a cushion for his landing. Pink sparks dance in his vision, but soon leave him to stare at the courtyard they've wound up in; an enormous, circular thing, and they're lying roughly in the centre. He's no expert, but he guesses the place looks kind of nice, with its pretty sundial, the tasteful vine placement, the giant awesome (and okay, also one–armed) angel statue, and of course–

"Ahem."

He turns at that, taking in the sight of Far Too Many Dragons. None of which Erai recognizes, and none of which look particularly impressed with him or his new friends.

 

 

 

 

 _"…Oh._ Huh." 


	5. Everything's Chatty With Dragons

  
Though definitely not the biggest, the first dragon to speak looks to be the leader of the pack of strangers – and not just because of the whole orange–and–gold colour scheme thing it has going for it, or that goofy cavalier hat. It stands as tall as it can, sitting up on its haunches, wings spread wide, long neck craned. Though size still works against it (the other dragons in the group are all at least as tall as it, and they aren't exactly making any effort to look taller), the tiny terror's voice still rings with a considerable amount of authority.

“Hikaru Hayashi. The good guy here – a first–class Admiral, you cannot be more good – and your very best hope. Nice of you to join us at last. Got any names for yourselves?”

How the hell exactly can such a deep voice come out of such a small dragon? Erai has no idea, but he figures that he ought to back away – just in case Hikaru manages to explode from his own reverberations, or reveal a secret demon side, or something. He's still a little stunned from the whole near–death experience thing. “Uh, well... I’m Erai, and–”

“You’ve been expecting us, then?!? Oooh, so it’s just like in the books! And, you know, every role–play starter I ever did in the Academy. Even the ones with Lady Shadowclaw Du Bloodytearz!”

“Th–there’s an Academy for roleplayers?” Mark wonders, fluttering up onto Erai’s shoulder. Even through his thick fur, he can feel her shaking – _can't blame her, honestly._ Lounging about the courtyard are several dragons that could kill Erai just by stepping on him; “Um – you're not talking about Hope's Peak, are you? Because, um, no offence or privilege or anything, but… roleplaying isn't really a serious thing to study in school?”

“Oh no, _aw yeah_ – roleplaying’s very serious business. It’s training for occasions just like these. Check this out, noobs!” And before Erai can stop her, the four–eyed, very energetic dragon’s bounded forwards. She butts her head against Hikaru’s chest, hard enough to knock him onto his back, and then she stands over him, and… _well…_

“Mmn, I can’t wait to get started! Take me to a private board and show me, like, all your super–ultra–secret skills, you awesome best Sensei ever! Also, show me where I can equip my elements, and learn to fly, and basically beat the whole game.”

_…tries desperately to chat up the One Serious, Powerful Leader Guy, Who Really Should Not Be Chatted Up?_

 No way. Even for Snakejaw _,_ hitting on anyone within two seconds of meeting them seems utterly ridiculous. Erai must have just… heard something really, really off, that’s all. Ditto for all those cringing dragons watching from various spots in the courtyard **.** Everyone just misheard her. In roughly the same way. Simultaneously.

“You want me to _what?_ ” Hikaru splutters, one short arm darting towards a heavy book that's strapped to one hip. Bat–like wings flap frantically, but the Mirror has one paw on his chest. He can't do much beyond slide along the ground, while the rest of the courtyard dragons look on in bemusement. “Don’t be an oaf! I haven't got have any of my  Love Routes planned out yet. You'll have to wait in line.”

_Love Routes?_

_Wait – 'yet'? **'Line'?!?**_

”Emphasis on the ‘yet’, I bet! Also, I’m waggling my nonexistent eyebrows at you.” Snakejaw finally backs off, leaving the smaller dragon to cough and splutter in the leaf litter. "Waggle, waggle, waggle. To the beat of your favourite slow jam."

Hikaru thinks about this for a long moment, then carefully pulls the brim of his big, stupid, feathered hat over his eyes. Not all that easy, and the ludicrously elaborate eyepiece _thing_ he's wearing threatens to get caught somewhere in the motion, but he manages. “Y–yes. Quite. I think I will take a short siesta now. In my quarters. Or just… here, actually. Here would be nice.”

"And then you got _booooring!_ Snakejaw McAwesomefangz is outta here, by which I do mean that I'll be right over there with that that awesome armoured dragon and that awesome nakey dragon, gunning for a clan position. Dragons with white bodies are super justice–enforcers, so they'll know all the rules. It's the One True Colour Code!"

"H–hey! You're whitewashi– oh dear, oh dear. Um, e–excuse me, I'll just make sure that she doesn't give anyone harmful predjuces!" And Mark flutters after the four–eyed dragon, trying desperately to catch up.

_Is everyone here horribly unhinged in some way? Do they just hit on each other all day? Are they planning on hitting on me? Wait – is that what having a Super–High–School–Level talent really means? That you're so deprived, turning into a dragon's less important than… **you know…** _

Erai sighs, trying not to think about any of that too hard – or any of the myriad other questions threatening to crowd his mind. “Uh – so, Hikaru, before you do nap. Introductions?"

Hikaru snorts, waving one tiny paw at him. The nails, Erai can't help but notice, are painted a gold; the exact same glittery, fake colour as the dragon's belly and horns. Does that mean he paints himself every day, despite having only three near–useless claws on each 'hand'? The answer to that mystery seems like it might be slightly less enigmatic than questioning everyone else's sanity.

"Hmph… What good are names? Now that we're all here, it's only a matter of time before I save this world, and then leave without a word. I don't need to know anyone's names; it's _you_ who need to know _mine._ Hikaru Hayashi, Super–High–School–Level Admiral. Your saviour."

_Okay, definitely a few fries short of a Happy Meal._

"Yeaaaah, you said that before. But, hey, there's no harm in introducing you anyway!" Hikaru lets out a groan better suited to a horror movie than real life, but he's not trying to bite Erai or anything; the other dragon's mind is set. "So I, ah, guess you’ve met Snakejaw. Now, the little one over there, the one that was talking about the whitewashing, that would be Mark. We call her that, because it's short for Question Mark, and you see, she's kind of short so it's funny–”

“Not to be a social justice warrior or anything, a–and I can't deal with all the cultural problems at once, but… Don’t you maybe, um, kind of think size–ism isn’t okay?

 _Ears like a bat,_ Erai thinks, shaking his head at that hollering pipsqueak of a dragon. She misinterprets it, giving him a thumbs–up. He decides to let that slide – anything, if only it'll make Mark leave him alone. “Aaaaa _aaaand_ this big one is Kaori. Say hello, Kaori!”

The giant doesn't move. Erai prays that she's just resting peacefully after a hard day's flapping about, and isn't doing that in a rest–in–peace sort of way.

“Holy redacted, that’s a dragon?!? Man. Dude. Bro, dude, man, bro! Oh my ** _beeeeeep_** god, she's a **_beep_** in' monster! She's humungous! Enormous! Buns of fun!”

Hikaru lifts his hat, apparently just to glare at the speaker – a long, skinny, silverish–blue dragon, coils tangling over themselves as he tries to get closer to Erai _and_ hang onto a tree branch. He looks to be about the same species as that Kobayashi guy, too. Sure, this dragon's a good metre longer, with skinnier legs, weird circuit patterns all over his body, no rocks – but he still has the horns, the giant glowy eyes, six wings.

If he's related to Kobayashi, however, it doesn't seem to show. Where Kobayashi was clumsy and ungraceful, shuffling along with his belly touching the ground, this dragon is fluid in every motion, to the point where he never seems to stop moving. Every twitch of his long body, every flourish of his pale pink wings, every bob of his head seems to lead into another motion.

The dragon's speech follows a similar pattern. Only sharp, almost robotic beeps halt a lilted, almost soothing accent – and even with his voice censored out, lips and tongue still move to form unheard words. Combined with his constant motion, Hikaru almost forgets to listen to what he's actually saying. The entire display is just so mesmerizing; musical, almost. "I mean. Holy mother of… well, **_beep_** , or **_beep_** , or, or – like? What I'm tryin' ta say is, she's freaky! She could eat the lot of us in one gulp!"

_That voice… that's kind of familiar, actually! It's got to be… uh…_

"Hang on, hang on", Erai sputters in the awkward silence, as the newcomer pads towards them. "Aren't you… oh, you know, that guy–? Uh. What was it again? I feel like I know you." 

The dragon goes to answer, but then Hikaru decides to end any and all attempts at a siesta. Though half the newcomer's size, the admiral somehow manages to puff up even as he sits up, a snarl curling at his snout. "Excuse me? Our good missus is an esteemed guest, a lady of power – a mighty, massive, living tank, who any true comrade could ride into battle! With the correct Love Route, we could be unstoppable partners. She it not for the likes of you, Osaka."

"Maybe, probably not, ladies answer to them sweet dollars, haven't met one yet that can resist Taki Motherflippin' Osaka – hey, 'motherflippin' isn't censored – and his glorious golden booty. But, did ya kinda sorta call her ** _beeeep_** fat there? 'Cos that's… reeeeally not cool, man."

"Then what were you calling her?" Hikaru retorts, strutting towards his latest opponent. Knuckles are cracked, or at least claws scrape on scale with a very ugly sound. "Like I said, she's _not_ –"

"Taki Osaka! I know you!" Erai can't help but butt in, in part because Hikaru did it first, and part because of the sheer excitement. What's standing in front of him right now might look like some dreadful technicolour monster, but… It was at some point in time the one, the only Taki Osaka. The guy responsible for Erai's terribly limited tastes in music, because every track he'd made was so damn _good._

_…Oh god, I shouldn't have said that to him! I must look like an even worse idiot than Snakejaw!_

If Taki's creeped out by the sudden enthusiasm and recognition, he doesn't show it in the least. He shrugs, or at least his snakelike body ripples once from the neck down, then makes a rough, sweeping gesture that encompasses the whole courtyard. "Yeah, a lotta people say that. Even most of these guys got the message. Don't know you, though – so, guess you've just heard my stuff or somethin'. Riiight? 'Nless you're a VIP an' all, in which case I oughta pretend I know ya right away. "

The joke settles Erai enough to talk, but not quite enough to keep himself from rambling. He can hear the grinding of Hikaru's teeth, and the angry, rhythmic swish of his tail in the leaf litter. If he wants to talk to Taki, the dragon has to think of something to ask – something to say – anything at all, so long as it's quick. "Oh, sure, I'm a huge fan. Hey, you don't mind if I ask a question, right? It's really been bugging me, but just what _was_ the meaning of _That One Line?_ "

One long leg goes to scratch at an ear, resulting in a very strange position for the serpent. Something goes _criiiickk–k–k_ , the other dragon cringes a little – but then Taki smiles, and everything's immediately all right. "Mmn, isn't that one of the ones without any words? Director had me doing EDM appearances for a while."

"No – I mean, uh, not that you're wrong, but there were a few words. Sort of in the middle, when the bass goes really quiet and then you start talking – ' _You picked me for me tonight//I picked me for me tonight//Party party party booty booty hell yeah hell yeah tonight//what even rhymes with tonight'_. I mean, I got all the emphasis wrong, and doubt it's got metaphysical applications or something, but. You know, you seem like a clever guy?"

For the time ever, Erai witnesses an uncomfortable dragon – and for the first time ever, he witnesses something beyond the 'cool guy' thing Taki's held onstage for what feels like an eternity. The rapper hums, tying his lower half into what looks like one very complex knot, front claws wringing at each other. "Mmmmmmmn. Well. The director–"  
  
"Osaka." The word is outright hissed, Hikaru's head dipping low as he drops to all fours – scowls,  glaring with enough ferocity to have made a tiger back down right there and then.  "The battleship. She's **mine**."

"Dude, duuuuude! Battleship's gotta be the most offensive thing I've heard all day. If you're really gonna say she's that kinda sizing, then you've got no hope! And not just 'cos, _heeey_ , I reckon you've got a pretty tiny ** _beeeeeep!_** "

Maybe he would have gone on there, or maybe Hikaru would have gotten in a good insult or three, or maybe Erai would entered the verbal smackdown somewhere around that point – but it's right about then that a shadow falls over all three of them. Or maybe it was always there; there's no other sign that anything approached from behind, until an upset, hoarse voice rings behind them. "Okay, so I–I've had quite enough of you three?"

"ATTACK ATTACK WHERE IS THREAT?!?"

_"AUUUUUUUUUUGHHHH!"_

**_"AIIIIIIIIIIEEEEE!"_ **

With those totally dignified noises, all three of them whirl to face a fourth dragon – then spring back, since it's mere centimeters from Erai, and his jump has the other two leaping out of the way. The newcomer's not like any other dragon Erai's seen yet; only a little taller than himself, but far bulkier. The shoulders look more like coiled springs; the legs bulge with muscle; even the wings look like they could benchpress a few hundred kilos. Combine all that with giant black deer horns, large and obvious scars on its flank, and all that rusted armour, and it looks like this would be a Force To Be Reckoned With. _Even though the fog swirling about it is  bright pink_ , which is certainly saying something.

_"Yamazaki!"_ Hikaru snaps. "Always sticking your nose into things, never mind the–"

"– finishing all your sentences. Yes, it's a very bad habit."

"Well, I don't know about _bad_ ", Erai puts in. It seems like a good idea to intervene, when Hikaru's eyes are threatening to pop from his head. "Sounds like a–"

"–pretty strange thing?" Despite the accurate prediction, the creature barely seems to be paying attention to him. A large, white, lustrous ball rolls between its paws, passing from the back, to the front, to the tail; round and round, a lopsided cycle. "Yes… Mentalists are strange. Sort of the point."

_He… he seriously knew what I was going to say!_

Erai's surprise must have shown all over his face. Taki rolls giant eyes, then yawns so widely that something in his jaw seems to dislocate midway through it. "Pffffft, don't be surprised. That guy's Shinsui Yamazaki, also known as a Super–High–School–Level Showoff. Gets all the chicks, 'cos they think he's interesting. Actually, he's dull as."

"Showoff? Really?" Shinsui only turns his back on them, giving the rest of his little speech even as he walks off. "J–just call it quits already, you guys. You've been disturbing my concentration over a really stupid, unnecessary fight. If you're going to fight over the largest dragon – the Twenty–Second Ancient One is the largest.”

Taki nods about as wisely as a lizard with a silly, long neck can. "He's got a point! Only problem is, The Big V's not t'be woken up! She's a sleepin' beauty, but a wakin' nightmare."

"Osaka… Take a little advice from the true hero, all right? Do not, under any circumstances call the twenty–two–A–O… _that._ "

"What, The Big–"

"Yes, that! She is as ladylike a tank as my brave Kaori! The only way to avoid a smiting by her claw would be if I get you first."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Rewind. The... the what, now? _"_ Erai knows it's a terrible question as soon as the words are out of his mouth, but then again – when you hear something as deeply inappropriate as 'The Big V', you just have to ask. He had no choice in asking at all, so there.

Shinsui pauses, then his shoulders heave. "Mmh, you wouldn't know. Get one of the others to explain, and _don't_ call her 'The Big V'. I would stay myself, and I could tell you what the Twenty–Second Ancient has already imparted to me, but I sens–"

And then the world – the forest, the dragons, the sky everything – exploded.


End file.
